Semua Bab Only in Vegas: Claimed by the Devils Son: Bab 51 - Bab 60

The Airbnb door shut behind them with a soft click, muffling the chaos of Vegas outside. Mia kicked off her shoes and sank onto the plush couch, the velvet cushions swallowing her whole. The panic still clung to her skin like smoke, but it was thinning now. Fading into the edges of her mind. Lauren dropped the bag of leftover pancakes on the counter and opened the fridge. “Wine or wine?” she called over her shoulder. “Surprise me,” Mia said with a tired laugh. Lauren returned with a bottle of something pale and sparkly, pouring two generous glasses. “To surviving serial killers with a pancake addiction,” she toasted. Mia clinked her glass. “To forks as weapons.” They both laughed, and the tension cracked a little. By the time they curled up under a mountain of blankets, a cheesy romantic comedy playing in the background, it almost felt normal again. Safe. Like no one was hunting her, like she hadn’t seen the devil in a booth at a pancake house. But it didn’t last. Laur

He hadn’t moved in hours. Axel lay sprawled across the unmade bed, a forearm draped across his eyes to block out the dull afternoon light bleeding through the blinds. The bottle of whiskey on the nightstand was half empty. The room reeked of stillness—no music, no distraction. Just the ghost of Mia pressed into every inch of his skin. He hadn’t slept much. Just enough to escape the sound of her laugh echoing in his mind. Not for him anymore, not because of him. She had been smiling. With him. With that guy. That blond son of a bitch who looked like everything Axel wasn’t. Normal. Safe. Kind. He had seen it. That smile in the street. That sunlight in her eyes. She had let it come alive again without him. And maybe he deserved that. Maybe that was the price for every bruise he’d let Slade deliver. For every time he’d chosen his bloodline over her heart. For every time the monster in him won. For every time he broke her piece by piece. But then his phone buzzed.

The Glass Cats was cloaked in shadows and soft velvet, a place for whispered secrets and dirty deals. Mia adjusted her dress as she slid into the private booth, its black velvet cushions swallowing her in comfort and quiet power. Her heart pulsed slow and steady, but her nerves were wound tight like piano wire. She looked like fire. Red lips, red dress, lacy confidence hidden beneath. Lauren had called her a goddess when she walked out the door. Now, she felt like one. Until he walked in. Axel. He was the man she remembered, the man who once made her world tilt and spin on command. Sharp suit, broad shoulders, that slight curl of his lip like he was always biting back something brutal. His dark hair was slicked back, but loose strands had fallen across his forehead—he hadn’t cared enough to fix them. He looked tired. No, broken. And still, damn him, he was gorgeous. She didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Just waited. He approached silently and slipped into the booth across fro

“Your move,” she whispered, her voice silk-drenched in danger. He didn’t speak. His gaze darkened, like storm clouds about to break. And then, with a reverence that caught her off guard, Axel leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just beneath her jaw. Not rough. Not possessive. Gentle. Her breath hitched. His lips barely grazed her skin, but it was enough to send a jolt between her legs. Her nipples tightened beneath the soft lace of her lingerie. Heat coiled in her belly, hotter, thicker than before. His tenderness shocked her. It was… Daniel-like. Thoughtful. Measured. It made her ache. “You don’t know what you’ve done to me,” he breathed. “You broke me in all the right ways. And now I just want to love you in all the ways no one ever taught me how to.” Her fingers slipped under his chin, lifting his head until his stormy eyes met hers. She leaned in and kissed him—slowly, commandingly—like she was claiming him now. The air pulsed around them as if the velvet-curtained booth ex

The night air hit her skin like a bolt of lightning. Cool, crisp, charged. Mia stepped out of the bar, her heels clicking against the cracked pavement as if nothing had happened. As if her legs weren’t still shaking. As if her heart wasn’t thundering from the look in Slade’s eyes. From the way Axel had shielded her. But she didn’t let it show. Not even a crack. Not tonight. Axel’s hand brushed her lower back as they reached his car, and it burned. That was the only way to describe it—fire, coiling and licking across her skin. He opened the passenger side door for her without a word. Still the gentleman. Still trying to be soft. She didn’t want soft anymore. Not until she got what she needed. The engine roared to life, the deep purr of the red sports car matching the low hum now vibrating between her thighs. She could still taste herself on his lips. Still feel the phantom grip of his fingers bruising her hips, his voice whispering filth like poetry against her throat.